I’m sorry I haven’t blogged in a while. It’s because I’m STILL writing REVELATIONS. And it comes out in October? Uh. Yeah! There’s so much MAJOR stuff going on and I just want to make sure I get it right, so I’m just sweating out the last hundred pages to make sure it all hangs together.
The other day we had brunch with our favorite TV writer friends, and they were talking about THE PRESSURE of making sure your script is all right. And I thought, oh, that must be really hard. Because I don’t feel that pressure really. And then I thought WHAT THE FRACK AM I TALKING ABOUT? OF COURSE I FEEL PRESSURE. I FEEL SO MUCH PRESSURE I HAVE GAINED TEN POUNDS AND AM BREAKING OUT!
And all the pressure comes from me. You know how when you raise kids, you’re supposed to try and get them to ACHIEVE stuff so that in the end, they’re working hard not to please their parents, but to PLEASE THEMSELVES? So yeah, I guess my parents did a really good job because all the pressure I feel is FROM ME.
The thing is, I reject stress. I think of writing as easy, and la-di-dah, who cares what anyone thinks about my writing, zoom zoom zoom. Not caring what anyone thinks is a great way to function. Because it allows you to be free.
But I forgot that I really care what *I* think.
And the book just isn’t up to MY STANDARDS yet.
Hence the last-minute rewrites. And the hair-pulling. And the sleepless nights.
When I was a club kid, dancing at 6am at the Sound Factory (um yeah, I used to get up at five in the morning to GO CLUBBING. Now that was the WAY TO LIVE, my friends) we use to dance to this song called “THE PRESSURE”. And it had this gospel beat and this hypnotic techno-umsk, umsk, umsk thing and when they put on THE PRESSURE everyone would RUN to the dancefloor and GO WILD. It was really fun. So now this song is the sound track to this book..
(Okaaay. How much do I love the Internet? I have been looking for this song to re-live my clubbing days and here it is: The Pressure by Sounds of Blackness, Junior (“If Madonna Calls”) Vasquez remix!!! Yeaaah boyyy!!!)
“My back is against the wall,
more bills than money can pay (sing it, sistah!)
but I know just who to call (Madonna?)
when I gotta fight..
THE PRESSURE, THE PRESSURE, THE PRESSURE of the world…
Umsk, Umsk, Umsk,
THE PRESSURE, THE PRESSURE, THE PRESSURE of the world!”
Wow. That was really fun. For a second there it was 1991 and I was in a wifebeater tanktop with ropes of fake pearls and cutoff shorts and fishnets and Doc Martens dancing in the middle of sweaty club with my gays and we were so young and fabulous and fee-yerce. (By the way I love that fashion line Young, Broke and Fabulous. Says it all!)
You know what else is fun? YOUR POEMS. Oh mah gawd. You guys are beyond awesome. And yes, I will share my juvenellia (spelling?)—I just found my journal from high school. Lots of mawkish poetry. Good times.
And in other news, I just finished LOVE THE ONE YOU’RE WITH by Emily Giffin. I heart Emily Giffin. There is just something about her books that are so great. I think it’s because she really gets you into the mindset of the character. And she just gets so many details right—like how people act and where they shop and how they talk. Good stuff.
On a totally DIFFERENT note I also devoured Elizabeth Scott’s LIVING DEAD GIRL, which was harrowing, wrenching, disturbing and unputdownable. Really dark, awful stuff but written so beautifully. You must read this book also. It comes out in September. I really believe in evil in this world, that it is a real thing you have to watch out for, all the time. My husband says I am neurotic and paranoid, but as they say, Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.
I am the type who RUNS home from the cab to the front door anytime I got home late, or even starts RUNNING down the street even if no one is chasing me. Right now we have this super-maximum burglar alarm that will emit a decibel-blasting SHRIEK if any of our motion-detectors are set off. When I lived in New York I never took the subway at night alone. I had five locks on my door. Now I always valet at the mall because of parking-lot kidnapping. I *ALWAYS* believe the worst is around the corner, and that a happy safe life comes from VIGILANCE. My husband (a confident American who grew up in a family that NEVER LOCKED THEIR DOORS. They DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE THE KEY IS. I mean, the first time I slept in their house I was convinced axe murderers were coming to get me), anyway, he thinks I live in fear. And you know what? I do. But it’s not a crippling fear. I mean, I fly, I go out at night, I do stuff. But I try to do it in a way that won’t make anyone ever think that I am a target. I believe that bad things happen. And that’s why Elizabeth’s book is so scary. Because very very bad things happen. So you must do everything you can do to make sure they don’t happen to you.
Oh man, sober note to end this blog!
And I was just dancing around to THE PRESSURE and missing my old friends. Anyway, back to work.